


Deserving

by NoahEarlGraves



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: (possible) assisted suicide, Abuse, Angst, BDSM, Bondage, Christmas, Contract, Depression, Good/bad ending depending on the vote, Hurt, M/M, Male Original Character/Orihara Izaya, Masochism, Mind Manipulation, Possible Character Death, Probably another mental illness which Izaya never bothered to find out, Psychological Torture, Romance, Sadism, Shizaya - Freeform, fuck buddies, manic depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-09-13 11:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9121522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoahEarlGraves/pseuds/NoahEarlGraves
Summary: Heartbroken and all alone, Izaya decided to sign a contract with his once rapist. All in order to hide from the pain Shizuo had subjected him to when the blonde announced that he was leaving Izaya. Permanently.Izaya never said he wasn’t a coward.(EDITED! Sorta.. at least I think it's kinda better written now.)





	1. Broken

**Author's Note:**

> *siiiiighhh* why am I doing this to myself. I love possessive!Shizuo… so why am I doing this?! … I’ve got problems. 
> 
> Personal problems aside, sorry, nobody beta-ed and I don't live in Japan plus English is not my first language so this is probably gonna be a disaster. Please do forgive me for any errors.
> 
> TT^TT my format's messed up. AO3 wouldn't let me bold or italicize (is that how you spell it?) using my phone. Hiks.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Durarara!!

It all happened one Christmas eve. Izaya knew this day would come, but nothing he could have done could ever prepare him enough for this one moment that fateful night.

“Izaya.” his usually warm mocha eyes were cold, piercing straight through Izaya’s already cracking heart. The all knowing Informant of Tokyo knew very well where this was going.

“Let’s break up.”

Izaya felt as if all the air has been sucked out of his lungs as his chest constricted painfully with his heart a thrumming mess. Cold starts settling in the pit of his stomach. Swallowing hard, Izaya knew that there was no reason to ask why. He knew why.

Barely holding back tears threatening to spill from his eyes, Izaya took a deep painful breath. “Ah… I see… so this is it, huh?”

The Monster of Ikebukuro did not grace him with an answer, instead, the blonde looked at him with cold eyes before walking away.

Not that Izaya needed one..

Izaya knew.

He always knew.

Izaya chuckled bitterly. The cold biting every surface of his skin as he stood there. Heart shattered and all alone.

It was great while it lasted.

With that, they carried on with their unspoken truce and didn’t bother one another as Shizuo walked further and further away. Leaving Izaya where the raven stood there under the falling snow.

Christmas.

It was just a mere day before Christmas.

Shizuo made his way to Shinra’s Christmas party with a colourfully wrapped present in hand.

A party where Izaya wasn’t invited.

-[New Year’s Eve]-

Izaya spun giddily in front of the full-length 3-way mirror in his bedroom. Stopping with a giggle, he smiled at the figure donning an elaborate blood red brocade uchikake (1) over a flawless shiromuku (2) in the mirror. The eyes looking back at him empty and distant. His chest throbbed with excitement, for some reason he could not fathom. At the same time, the raven could feel the hollowness slowly creeping in. Creeping back in like it always does after each time the sudden surge of elation washed over him for no apparent reason.

Bringing up a pale finger to trace the golden peacock (3) pattern just below his chest, his eyes wandered to the headless mannequin just beside his mirror. Izaya’s eyes softened at the sight of the crisp black montsukihakama (4). His breath hitched in his throat. The room suddenly felt that much colder.

“Shizu-chan…” he swallowed hard.

Looking at the offending clothing hurts. Alas, for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to rip the damn thing off his overtly expensive mannequin and burn it, or at least throw it away.

That was when a certain raven haired woman stormed into the room without so much as a knock.

Izaya’s shoulders visibly flinched but he quickly recovered. The informant mentally cussed. It wasn't like him to be startled so easily. Swiftly wiping his eyes and continuing to mentally scold himself, he turned to face the frowning woman with the widest grin he could pull off at the moment. To someone who didn’t know Orihara Izaya as much as Yagiri Namie does (which isn’t much but just enough), it would have looked as if nothing had happened.

“Namie-saann~ haven’t your mother ever told you it’s rude to walk into people’s rooms without knocking?”

Namie did not reply. Her frown creased as she gave him a once over.

Izaya grinned wider, gaining confidence, and spun back to meet his reflection in the mirror.

“Ne, Namie-san, I look beautiful, don’t I? I look a god, don’t you thi-”

“You look like shit.”

Izaya’s grin did not falter.

Her heels clicked and clicked as she made her way closer towards where her employer stood and dumped the files she had been carrying to his room on his vanity table just stuck to the wall adjacent to him. She wasn't lying. To her, her employer's state right then had been pathetic. Thin and pale as a corpse.

“You look more like a corpse than a bride.” Namie straightened herself and made eye contact with him in the 3-way mirror he’s creepily looking into. “Your appointment with Ito Goro-sensei will be on the second of January. 12 o’clock on the dot. Be there.”

Izaya’s eyes narrowed, recognising the name immediately. The woman effortlessly evaded his glare and was already made her way out of his room. “I didn’t pay you to make appointments for me when it doesn’t concern my clients, Namie-san. Much less a therapist.”

He made a mental note to cut her paycheck in half.

How dare she.

He was completely fine.

How dare she assume otherwise.

He was the mighty Orihara Izaya.

One of the most feared men in all of Tokyo.

The long haired woman paused her steps and to look back at him, never fully turning to face him but the fierce cold look in her eyes bore through him all the same. “Cut my pay, fire me if you want. I don’t care. I’m not working anymore overtimes because you can’t get yourself together, Orihara.”

Her eyes went to the hakama beside the mirror. “You might as well sell it. Heiwajima Shizuo’s never coming back. Not after what you di-”

“Get out.”

“Hmph.” her long hair swept the air as she slammed his bedroom door shut. He couldn’t hear the rustling of her gathering her gears to leave for the day (as his room was soundproofed) but he could easily guess as much.

‘I didn’t do it…’ a pitiful voice echoed in his head. Closing his eyes before opening them again, a hollow look settled in his eyes.

Hesitating only for a mere full second, Izaya took a hold of the obi around his waist and began undressing. Hissing once when the fabric grazed the still healing wound on his back. Izaya could still recall the event as if it was yesterday. Shinra huffed and left, not doing more than stopping the bleeding and stitch him up before telling Izaya to get the hell out of his apartment. The damn nutcase of a doctor didn’t even bandage him up.

And, frankly, Izaya never bothered to do it himself.

The expensive white kimono along with the equally expensive uchikake pooled at his feet. He stepped out of the mass of snow white fabric without bothering to pick them up.

It wasn’t even ten minutes later that the Great Orihara Izaya was curled up in his bed. Willing himself to sleep despite the bed being much too cold.

Right before he settled himself in the soft covers, the informant brought up his fingers to his face. Examining the gold and silver rings with detached crimson eyes before peeling the rings off one by one…

...and throwing them across the dark room.

It was two hours later, when the clock struck 12 on the dot that fireworks soared and colours smashed into the sky all the way from Yokohama, visible all the way to Shinjuku’s night sky where the best informant in Tokyo tossed and turned as he slept in his cold, dark apartment, restless as a child in his nightmare induced slumber.

Izaya woke up with a start. Palm clammy and overall drenched in sweat, Izaya looked at his alarm clock and groaned when the numbers ‘03:28’ with that small AM beside them glared back at him.

Burying his face in his hands, Izaya’s mind drifted back to a certain blonde in bartender outfit. “Damn you Shizu-chan…” there was no energy in his cuss.

A flash of another person’s face came up and Izaya abruptly gripped his raven locks as if to tear them off his skull.

Izaya clenched at his nightshirt right above where his heart was.

Hollow.

That was all he felt.

“Damn you…”

The mighty Orihara Izaya finally buried his face into his knees.

“... damn you…”

A voice his could only discern as his own echoed in his head.

‘Why won’t you believe me…?’

‘It wasn’t me…’

‘... Shizuo…’

He sobbed.

‘It was never supposed to work in the first place.'

‘Our relationship was doomed to end before it all even started…’

‘We were never meant to be.’

Izaya whimpered.

 

‘... I don’t deserve him...’

 

It felt as though it had all been just a dream, those days that felt like a taste of heaven. A dream he finally woke from.

A dream too good to be true and is.

Izaya knew more than anybody that what his best friend, or former best friend, spoke the truth when he said:

"Orihara-kun, you don't deserve to be happy. Please stop bothering Heiwajima-kun. He deserves better."

Shinra's words rang true and Izaya knew it. His eyes closed, Izaya convinced himself that it didn't matter. That he and Shizuo were never meant to be. That it didn't matter why they broke up and that there wasn't a time when they might have made it until the end so it didn't matter. It didn't matter why they broke up. They just did. They just did like how he had always suspected they would from day one. Shizuo could never fully trust him. There was no way he could and Izaya couldn't blame him.

He, Izaya had, after all, hurt him too much in the past.

Wounded him too badly.

Deceived him like the devil he is.

Hurt him.

Ruined his life.

Tormented him all the way during what was supposed to be the most important years of his life.

Their now tarnished relationship could never delete that history of them loathing one another.

Hating each other.

Distrusting each other to the fullest.

Wanting each other dead and sought to see to it.

He had hurt him much too much for the other to ever trust him fully.

Those were Orihara Izaya’s last thoughts before he collapsed into unconsciousness.

_____

 

When he woke up, he was greeted with an unfamiliar ceiling.

‘... Where…?’

Immediately Izaya’s mind supplied that the place was not his Shinjuku apartment. His dazed mind hardly registering anything else as he tried to open his eyes.

His eyelids were heavy. Too heavy. Trying to move his arms, the informant finally realised he couldn’t feel his fingers. As if all the energy he has had been sucked out, Orihara Izaya realised he was paralysed.

‘So I’ve been kidnapped huh…’ too tired to physically react, he closed his bloodshot blood red eyes again.

The air was heavy with dust and the cold of winter seem to seep through the walls.

 

“Ah, I see you’re awake, Orihara-san.”

 

At the voice, Izaya forced his eyelids to crack open enough to see a blond man.

Izaya frowned in his weakened state, trying to remember who this is and was failing. Trying to remember, if he had, in any way, scorned his man looming above him.

The face wasn’t familiar. That’s alarming because Orihara Izaya should remember the face of every single person who wished him dead.

But nothing about the man was familiar.

The figure looming over him from what seemed to be a chair -Izaya himself could safely assume he himself on the cold tiled floor, did not ring any bells. The man was tall, taller than him, probably a certain blonde monster’s height. Only, this man’s own blonde hair wasn’t unruly -actually, it looked very well kept and... natural. His eyes were not the familiar mocha colour, this man’s eyes were green. He looked nothing like the Monster of Ikebukuro.

‘Toxic green..’ Izaya’s mind noted weakly

What more was that his man looked caucasian.

‘Russian…’ his tired mind supplied. Although the man spoke perfect Japanese, somehow, with experience Izaya was still able to distinguish the barely-there accent even in his pathetic state. At least he was still good at recognising accents -that’s a bit reassuring.

What the man decided to do next, however, was not.

Lifting the informant up in his arms, the man whispered in the tired raven’s ear, “Do forgive my men. They had taken the initiative to bring you in here.” The blonde man started to walk out whatever edifice they were in. “They were afraid that you’d… defile my humble abode, you see.” Izaya’s hooded eyes finally closed for good as the door was shut behind the blonde man carrying him by two other men who said nothing as if it was normal for a paralysed man to be carried around the vicinity like a newly wedded bride. The stranger's unfamiliar baritone voice uncannily sounded soothing in his ear. The raven could smell the man’s musky scent, coming from an expensive brand cologne no doubt.

Despite nothing more than to drift into the most relaxed slumber he had since God knows when the barely-there rational part of his mind managed to convince him to crack his eyes open.

He regretted it immediately. Too bright. The lights. Izaya squeezed his eyes shut the best he could. The manor itself is still a good distance away from where this evidently strong man was carrying him, undoubtedly heading towards the main source of the eye piercing luminance.

Not able to take fight the heaviness of his eyelids anymore, the young informant finally succumbed to unconsciousness. The last thing his mind registered before darkness embraced him was that there was nothing humble about the said abode. His abductor's home mansion looked more like a palace than anything.

Orihara Izaya couldn't care less.

____

(1) Uchikake: A very formal kimono worn by brides.  
(2) Shiromuku: An all-white wedding kimono worn by brides. The most formal wedding gown.  
(3) Peacock: on a kimono it symbolizes several meanings including love. Usually paired with the dragon.  
(4) Montsukihakama: Black formal hakama grooms wear on Japanese weddings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: tis the season to be jolly~! Tra-
> 
> Brain: No.
> 
> ^basically what happened.
> 
> So, as the tags may have hinted to you, this fic can end in a few ways. 
> 
> Good or bad ending. Please vote in the comments. It may or may not save/end someone or some people or... you'll see! ^^


	2. Captor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya has been kidnapped by a man he couldn't recognize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear, this is NOT a Shizuo/Vorona fic.
> 
> And I STILL don't have anyone to help beta this TTATT. 
> 
> Ao3's also still not letting me use the Rich Text using my phone huhu... 
> 
> Disclaimer: Durarara!! Is not mine.

-[Ikebukuro, 3rd of January]-

There are many things that could piss off one Heiwajima Shizuo, the infamous Fortissimo of Ikebukuro.

At the same time, it is, in truth, surprisingly easy to avoid rendering him from an ordinary man in bartender outfit to the feared Monster of a guard dog.

There are only but a few rules.

One of which is to never confess your undying love for someone you couldn’t have known better than a random average whore you would come across every so often on Sunday nights when trying to get out of debt.

Another one of which is to never mention his dear baby brother when trying to get out of debt.

Those are pretty basic rules that sleaze ball after sleaze balls seems to never get.

Needless to say, they have never failed to ignite the fire of wrath within one Heiwajima Shizuo.

Like this one, a certain debt collector and his bodyguards were trying to make pay.

“Get lost. I dunno what yer talkin’ about. I ain’t got no debt and I ain’t got no money.”

Tom raised an eyebrow, “Oh? And why is it that ‘you ain’t got no money’, huh?” the number of people borrowing what they couldn’t afford to pay up in time with their capacity of competence never failed to astound him.

“Met this beau yesterday and it was love at first sight. I couldn’t possibly let another man take her before me! So I went and bought her a golden ring and proposed to her yesterday! So yea, I ain’t got no money so y’all better get lost before me got me boys atcha.”

Shizuo took a long drag of his cigarette before looking up to the sky blowing smoke in the air above him.

Vorona turned to her blonde senpai. Blinking. Her eyes almost hollow but her concern was obvious.

Their boss rubbed his forehead while sighing. “So that’s why we’re telling you- Shizuo!”

Too late. The man yelped as the blonde in bartender outfit grabbed him by the collar and brought his face to the blonde’s eye level. “What’s the woman’s last name?”

The petrified man could only stammer, “I- a! A-a!” no being able to think of a decent lie amidst his panic.

“WHAT’S THE WOMAN’S LAST NAME?!”

“Shizuo!” Tom yelled out.

Humans often forget how to think rationally when their human instincts tell them that their lives are in danger. Unfortunately enough, sometimes instead of saving their own lives, they tend to do stupid things they thought is going to save them.

“I-I-I don’t know! H-Here l-l-look, how much do they pay you? I can double that!” The man began firing rapidly. “You’re re-really handsome! I can make you a model! You’re really handsome-”

Tom facepalmed and sighed in defeat. Here goes.

“-like that actor who's in the hospital right now! Hanejima Yuhei! With him out you can b-”

Shizuo wasn’t listening as soon as the man spouted his brother’s stage name. He could've sworn he busted a vessel.

And just like that he punched the man and sent him flying into the next building.

Vorona was fast. She caught the man before he could smash his head against the solid wall behind him.

Not even Vorona’s presence and his determination to be a good senpai could stop him from punching the bastard out of his pants.

Shizuo panted hard. He wasn’t even feeling tired. He was pissed. He knew be barely managed to hold himself back just enough that the man possibly won’t die. Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned his head down and clenched his fists until blood started to seep out. It was a good thing his mind managed to blank out with fury at the mention of his brother. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back his monstrous strength at all and would have sent the man straight to the afterlife.

Vorona said nothing but looked at the blood starting to trickle down her senpai’s fingers. She already felt for the man’s pulse. He was unconscious but alive. She slowly laid him down on the floor and made her way back to the two men.

A hand rested on Shizuo shoulder. Shizuo did not look up.

“Shizuo.” Tom’s gentle yet firm voice called out. The Fortissimo of Ikebukuro only breathed harder and turned his head down lower as his rising shoulder started to tremble. The dreadlocked man could even hear the blonde gritting his teeth.

Tom was getting desperate. “Shizuo!”

“Shizuo-senpai.” Vorona called out as well.

At the woman’s monotone voice Shizuo seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in. Calming himself down, he finally said, “Ah… sorry ‘bout that, Tom-san, Vorona.”

Tom’s brows still furrowed in worry but managed a small smile. “You’ve got us worried there, Shizuo.” he was worried

A tinge of guilt bit into his chest. The blonde thinned his lips. Shizuo was seething.

Tom tentatively pulled his hand away. To say he was worried would be an understatement. He was extremely worried. It wasn’t like Shizuo to start getting angry that quickly especially with Vorona around. Granted that Shizuo’s fuse isn’t the longest, Tom knew by experience that it wasn’t that short.

With a deep breath he willed his frown away and looked at his subordinates with a warm smile, even with Shizuo’s eyes cast downwards and Vorona’s focus stuck to her senpai. “Shizuo, Vorona, take the day off.”

Both heads snapped to face him. Disbelieve in their eyes.

As expected, Shizuo tried to protest. “But Tom-san-”

“No, this is not up for debate. Both of you, take the day off. Go on a date or something. We can finish this off tomorrow.” before any of the two could say anything, Tom left and waved them off. “Have a good day!”

Shizuo stood there dumbfounded.

Vorona stood equally quiet.

The faux blonde was first to break the silence. “So, um…” not sure to meet her eyes or what to say.

“Point was taken. It is affirmative that best will be if Shizuo-senpai and I go on this date today.” Shizuo’s eyes snapped to lock with her’s.

“Orihara Izaya is whom occupies Shizuo-senpai’s mind at the moment, yes?”

The straightforward question made Shizuo’s breath hitch in his throat. “Vorona, I…”

“I intend to be the number one in Shizuo-senpai’s heart. Shizuo-senpai affirmed that he will give me a chance to make him forget Orihara Izaya. I say he should give me opportunity to do that today.” She said with a smile.

Ah, yes. That’s right.

It’s only a little over a week since he broke up with the informant.

Vorona had confessed to him on Shinra’s Christmas party. Straightforward and on point as always. Needless to say, awkward silence filled the room. Although the whole room easily assumed that there is no way Shizuo would be hung up on somebody like Izaya especially after what everyone thought Izaya had done, Vorona’s advances were still seen as rather too bold and out of place at the time.

Shizuo had rejected her at first. Saying that there is no way he can start a new relationship then.

Not after he just recently broke up with the man no so long ago he thought he would devote the rest of his life to.

Vorona, however, had been insistent. Saying that he doesn’t have to decide straight away. All he had to do, was give her a chance.

Shizuo had been reluctant but the short moment after with Celty in the kitchen he had returned to the living room and told Vorona that, yes, he would give her a chance. Vorona never looked so happy.

[I know that maybe you’re not ready for this right after your break up with Izaya, but, Shizuo, this may be a good distraction for you for the time being. Who knows, maybe Vorona might be the right one for you. She’s a lovely woman.] Were Celty’s exact words from her PDA.

“Celty. She tried to kill you.” Shizuo had mentioned flatly. Dating and after that being engaged to one Orihara Izaya had revealed many things. Things were bumpy when Izaya let slip that Vorona was, in fact, the Crow.

That was history and another story, however.

All in all, things have settled and Vorona had kept her job and occupation as all who were concerned finally came to terms with the Russian woman’s history.

Back to the present time.

Shizuo looked at Vorona dead in the eyes before closing them and sighed. Thinking it over. Tom-san had suggested the date. Shizuo himself didn’t trust himself to make the most rational decision, but he knew that he could trust both Tom-san and Vorona.

He closed his eyes as he let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding before finally managing to give the woman a small smile as he reopened his eyes to look at her.

“Alright.”

Vorona’s lips curved into a smile.

________________________________________

-[In a manor somewhere, 9th of January]-

It’s been over a damn week.

Over a damn week, he was locked up and trapped in this damn mansion.

Orihara Izaya slammed his fist down the glass table. Effectively breaking it. Shards of glass flew about which the three maids in the room did not even dodge as they simply stood there emotionless as ever.

When he woke up over a week ago, the man who had carried him was gone and all he saw was another new ceiling, or, to be exact, a canopy’s interior. This one room reminding him much of Marie Antoinette and her husband’s bedroom.

He was free to roam the mansion.

That one day, he had gotten up. He walked up to the window and found out that the window was too high up and too isolated building wise for even him, a parkour extraordinaire, to get down from. Knowing that he then proceeded to try and open the door and was pleasantly surprised to find it wasn’t locked.

He did remember being kidnapped. He did remember being brought here. Carried here to be exact.

Izaya sighed. Such a drag. He’s not exactly in the mood to play games.

This is not the first time he’s been kidnapped. So he knew the drill.

The drill being he had to somehow, sometimes, find a way out since nobody would come to rescue him. He had smiled listlessly to himself then. Remembering that the last time, the other time he was kidnapped had been a long time ago. A long time ago before Shizuo went up to him and confessed with that stutter in his voice Izaya remembered all too well that he had long been in love with the one man he claimed to have hated since the first day he laid eyes on him. No one had dared touch Izaya once the whole of Tokyo, well, at least Ikebukuro, realised that the two most feared men of the two city wards were in cahoots.

But Izaya had bitten his lips and reminded himself. ‘That was then, this is now. The past stays in the past. I have to find a way out of here.’

Izaya had expected someone, guards most likely, to be right outside the door. Stationed in case he tried to make a hasty escape. For some reason, Izaya had not been afraid. He had known his normal self to be much of a coward but for some reason, right then there was no fear in his heart.

‘I’ve got nothing much to lose…’ he had thought.

With that, he bravely walked out of the room and searched for an exit.

For some reason, no matter how many flights of stairs he went up and down from, no matter how many doors he opened, he could neither find another window nor an exit.

It seemed that every door led him to the same place he had been to before if the fancy decor and furniture had anything to say.

Slowly he began to memorise which room he would go to if he opened which door.

He knew none would lead him to an exit.

If it wasn’t for the window up in the room he woke up in, he’d assume he was underground -a large area lacking windows tend to be.

And if it wasn’t for the cameras everywhere he’d consider being abandoned. Oh no, the cameras were not in plain view but each time he accidentally bumped on something (his motoric senses hasn’t been at its best after he woke up) and moved some cover or another, a table or the lamp on top of it, a tiny camera would be revealed. Izaya actually tried looking for some briefly in one of the rooms (knowing that it doesn’t seem like he’s making it out that day) and honestly the result was overwhelming. Within 5 minutes he already found three cameras.

It wasn’t long till Izaya began looking for hidden passageways.

After all, he’d came across at least ten maids and butlers. All of them did nothing more than bow their heads as he passed them. He came across the first one on accident and as soon as he saw he had company, grabbed the maid by her throat and threatened her. The maid had merely closed her eyes, her face starting to turn blue from asphyxiation, and said nothing.

Not knowing what else to do, he let her go.

Strange.

It was strange.

The mansion, or at least the parts of the mansion he had explored, felt like as though it was a giant maze.

And he just can’t seem to find a way out.

“M’lady,” Izaya snapped his head to look at a butler at the doorway of another one of the windowless rooms he just recently entered in hopes to find an exit. The butler bowed as soon as his eyes were on him before he straightened himself up again and said, “Dinner will be served at the dining hall in an hour. A change of clothes has been brought to your room. If you will follow me, I can lead you back there.”

Izaya stepped away from the man. His hand grabbed the handle of another door in the room. He turned the knob and tried to run out. Away from the expressionless butler.

Tried. As soon as he stepped foot outside the room, a pair of maids from both sides had caught his wrists in shackles. Izaya’s eyes widened in shock. Merely a second later a surge of electricity went through his body as the pain came all too quickly as he fell to the ground. Izaya gritted his teeth in pain. Cracking his eyes opened, the previous butler stood there by the doorway. “The Lord’s order, M’lady.”

‘M’lady’ is no way to address a man. Any oaf with half a brain would know. After a maid crouched down to inject him with… whatever it is in the syringe. The maids helped him on his feet. Both keeping hold of both his arms. As the shackles bounded his wrists together.

Once again, Izaya found himself paralysed.

When he arrived at the door to his said room. Two more maids had been stationed there. The butler bowed and left. The four maids went with him into the room or, more like, dragged him with them.

He could not fight them even after they removed his shackles as the maids began undressing him and bathing him.

Only a mere few minutes before he had tried to move away from the maids only to be tased again and this time one of them swiftly stuck a needle somewhere on his arm. His body soon grew limp as he was paralysed neck down.

The maids gave him a bath. Dressed him. Then laid him on the bed and stepped away with a bow. This time keeping their heads low.

A butler came only moments later with what looks to be a wheelchair. After giving the standard bow, he said a brief, “Excuse me” before scooping up Izaya and putting him down on the wheelchair. Izaya previously from his laying down position could not see what the wheelchair looks like now noted how the wheelchair had a golden frame, white fur armrest and, he could guess from the texture, matching white fur seat and cushion too. The handles, as he caught a glimpse of when the butler moved him, were shaped in such a way that they resemble a pair of golden dragons. It looked more like a throne on wheels than anything.

Mirrors and rows of mirrors they passed as they passed more and more grand hallways. Izaya could see that he was dressed in such a way that he resembled a lady of the court. He recognised the layers of traditional clothing as the twelve layer kimono: junihitoe.

The dining hall matched the rest of the mansion he had been to. Grand and not unlike the interior of the buildings he’s seen in the Vatican City when he went there long ago for a short vacation. The whole interior screamed beaux. A grand crystal chandelier which hung from the angel painted ceiling and the rows of flower encircled candles on golden candle stands on the long table complemented one another beautifully.

“Ah, Orihara-san, so nice of you to join me this evening.” a pleasant voice greeted him.

The voice, now familiar, belonged to the man he remembered had carried him into the grand mansion. The master of the house sat across from where the butler had settled him at the end of the long table.

The man chuckled briefly. As if reading his mind, he said, “So you remembered me. That’s good. I was afraid the drugs might have been too much for your body to handle.” 

“And yet you allowed your maid to drug me again?” Izaya narrowed his eyes at the man across from him who laughed.

As soon as the butler let go of Izaya's wheelchair handle and poured some wine into the glass in front of him, the middle-aged butler opted to stand beside him, behind him, a row of maids made their way to the table from behind where the man across from Izaya sat with silver trolleys and domes which they simultaneously placed on the long table in such a way that the array of lobsters, bread, soup, and many other dishes, obviously too much for two people, were laid out in such a way resembling a praiseworthy art in its own respect.

“I’ve been watching you. You seem quite fine. In fact, it seems like you’re having fun in my mansion.”

“Who are you?”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“From what I could tell, you’re not amongst the people I’ve scorned in the past. You’re not seeking any sort of… compensation.” ‘Revenge,’ Izaya’s mind supplied. His jaw still felt sluggish and talking was a bit of a challenge. “If you could just tell me what you want and let me go in return I can try to accommodate.”

By now Izaya knew enough to know, this is no ordinary man. All this seems to be this man’s idea of fun and that in itself is alarming.

At this point, Izaya would love to hear that he was wrong. That this he, for some reason, had crossed this man in the past and now this man wanted to make him pay. With people like that, Izaya could reason with. Know how to deal and negate with. Men like they are familiar. They are human.

This man before him is another story entirely. Izaya prides himself in being able to play his humans like a lute. They are very much predictable in their unpredictability. Unlike this man before him. This type of person is unpredictable. Much too unpredictable.

And Izaya hates when someone is simply too unpredictable.

The green eyed man in his white suit gave him a mystic smile before getting up. Dinner all but was forgotten, the man clad in a white suit fit for nobility walked up to Izaya and picked him up from the wheelchair. Carrying him not unlike that night when he carried him to the mansion. Izaya did not struggle or squirm, he couldn’t.

Now when Izaya got a closer look at the man in a well-lit place, Izaya could see that his captor is, indeed, fully caucasian and that the man is exceedingly handsome.

The room the man carried them to was just as fancy as the rest he’s been to. Only with a difference.

All the other rooms are mainly white and gold.

This one was black and red. The same shade as Izaya’s hair and eyes.

The unceremoniously threw him on the bed before looming over him. By this time Izaya knew full well what the man intended to do.

The man leant close to Izaya’s ear and whispered, “It’s true that I bear no grudge against you. But we have met before and it wounds me so that you did not remember me. Maybe this will refresh your memory.”

Izaya didn’t know how this man managed to do it but his eyes went wide with instinctual fear when the man expertly removed his first layer of kimono.  
The man took his time. Looking into Izaya’s eyes with a smile as his hands did the work.

“A pity.”

The man’s leant in and his lips hovered just above Izaya’s.

“The one man you love didn’t love you enough to trust you.”

‘No..’ Izaya’s mind started to panic. ‘It wasn’t Shizuo’s fault he couldn’t trust me. I-’

“Wronged him too much. That you did. But if he really loved you…”

The last layer was all that’s left covering the informant.

The man bit his ear.

“... wouldn’t he trust you anyway? Really, it seems to me that-”

He ran his hand teasingly on Izaya’s milky thigh, pushing up the silk clothing as he did.

“-you were never anything to him.”

The old Orihara Izaya. The healthy Orihara Izaya would have laughed at this man. For suggesting that a Shizu-chan could possibly fake a whole relationship. That he, Orihara Izaya, could be fooled by the dumb brute.

But this Orihara Izaya…

This Orihara Izaya whom the beast has left that winter night not so long ago.

Whom the beast had gone down on his knees with a little velvet box holding a golden ring for before a month later leaving, heart shattered into a million pieces and frozen brittle into resembling a black coal.

Whom had long been tormented by the hollow in his chest since that day Shizuo had left him could not bring himself to fight protest as this stranger he could not remember began sucking and nipping on the junction where his neck met his shoulder. Marking him.

Claiming him.

A bead of tear escaped a crimson eye as more pooled.

Then the man bit him hard.

Izaya gasped. A surge of pleasure ran up his spine as the pain hit him. The pain in his chest suddenly became bearable as blood began leaking out of the wound which the man lapped and kiss as if to apologise.

The man pulled away and the small smile formed on those lips again. Kissing Izaya’s temple briefly, the man reached for the nightstand beside the king sized bed.

Izaya’s hooded eyes saw what the man had in his hand.

A syringe and a ball gag.

“Open up.”

Izaya hesitated for only a second before opening his mouth. The man placed the ball in Izaya’s mouth before placing the strap over his head. It was rather tight and uncomfortable. Izaya only had a moment to make his opinion about the gag before the needle pierced the skin of his arm. The unknown dark blue substance was injected in him before the man pulled the syringe away.

“That should work in a while.” the green eyed man caressed the side of Izaya’s face affectionately. “That drug is poisonous in large dosage. Nirvana, I call it. I made it myself, you see.” The man rested his forehead to Izaya’s and closed his eyes. “It will make you forget what is ailing you. Your heart.”

Izaya’s eyes widened. This man must be kidding. There’s no way-

“You won’t remember your beloved Shizu-chan for three hours at least.”

That said, Izaya’s body began to feel hot and his eyes hooded once more. The man opened his eyes once more, chuckling. He could feel the heat radiating from the smaller man’s body already.

“Fear not, love. Unlike him, I will be here for you all the way.”

Izaya closed his eyes. Feeling that hand untie his last obi and his last layer of kimono came undone.

The man kissed him again. In the middle of his chest, this time as his hand ran up a flawless milky thigh. “You are lovely. Like a perfect little doll.” 

That’s when the gentleness ended.

The man’s lips were on his neck again as he untied his blue tie and used it to tie both Izaya’s wrists to the headboard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will contain lemon ;) and then after that I'm gonna include Shizuo's side of the story and why the hell he's been acting like (as you guys dubbed) an asshole. 
> 
> There is still time to vote. Good ending or bad ending? Let me know in the comments please!


	3. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya never knew how much he longed to be punished - to get exactly what he deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had more things prepared for this chapter but I thought this is long enough.
> 
> Needless to say, I’m going straight to hell for this. (*´▽`)ν
> 
> This is my first actual lemon. Please pardon all the weirdness.
> 
> Thank you for everyone’s support! I legit almost deleted this fic but instead, I’m continuing this now.
> 
> WARNING: Lemon! Please, if you are underaged, GET OUT OF HERE ASAP!

Drowning.

Izaya felt as if he was drowning.

Amidst being pressed under the weight of the deep waters, only one name crossed his mind.

‘Shizuo…’

Izaya wanted to cry, feeling hot as his traitorous body kept responding needily to every burning touch. For some reason, he felt like a traitor-reacting this way because of another man’s touch, his body wantonly accepting another man’s advanced despite unwillingly. Even knowing that his Shizuo had left him, he couldn’t help feeling as if he was betraying the man who loved him not each time his body bucked and sought more of that pleasurable warmth.

Pathetic.

Far too pathetic.

Izaya wanted nothing more than to stab himself over and over till his soul separated from his body for good, but he couldn’t. Not with the bindings tying his wrists to the headboard. Not with the peculiar paralysis coursing through his veins.

To call out for someone who really didn’t care now if he lived or die… really made Izaya realise that…

He had absolutely nobody.

Izaya wanted to laugh bitterly at the thought but all that came out were choked cries.

The stranger stroked his cheeks while whispering softly in his ears.

“There, there, don’t cry. I’ll make it all feel better.”

That voice had no right to sound comforting.

“Afterall, I do love you…” he chuckled. “Even though you’re nothing more than a needy whore.”

And just like that Izaya fell into a trance. Drowning. He was drowning. Like he contemplated in doing the day that the thought of Shizuo leaving him for good finally sunk in.

Worst of all, the idea that he probably deserved it sunk in as well.

Izaya cried and cried and welcomed the embrace.

The voice cooed. “No, no, beautiful…”

‘I’m not beautiful,’ Izaya wanted to cry out but were too busy sobbing and hiccupping to utter a single syllable.

“Ah… I hate to see you in so much pain.” The man smiled down at him. Izaya’s cries ceased when he caught the look in the man’s eyes. Puzzled enough to be distracted from his pain for a few seconds. The man looked… pained.

He stroked the jet black hair with more care than Izaya had ever shown anyone given him since the day he could remember. Like he was some sort of precious jewel.

“But…” the flicker of worry disappeared from the man’s eyes as his smile grew and he leant closer, pressing his lips to Izaya’s ears. “... You’re beautiful when you cry.”

The blonde stranger’s hand began to wander further into the garment Izaya wore, making the informant squirm. His body still disgusted by the foreign touch. “Shh, it’s alright. I’ll make you feel all better. I’ll take the pain away. I promise.”

Izaya’s eyes fell hooded. The promise of taking his pain away much too sweet sounding for his body to reject.. even though he knew it couldn’t have been anything but a lie.

His captor clicked his tongue in mild irritation and sighed before taking off the ball gag. “What a shame…” the man looked at him with beautiful, albeit empty, green eyes. “I really wanted to use this today… but I guess our first time should be a bit more, what do you say… sweet?” the handsome blonde chuckled. Izaya whimpered when he felt the man’s breath on his skin.

If this man… can take the pain in his chest away by pretending to love him in his own sick, twisted way, then even if it was a lie.

Against his better judgement, Izaya was willing to take part and play along, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe… the weight in his heart would go away.

That’s why Izaya accepted the cold press of the stranger’s lips on his with no protests and just like any other willing partner, kissed back.

“A-aahh…” Izaya moaned in between kisses. Growing hotter and hotter by the minute as the stranger’s hand began roaming his torso, tracing his abs and the small of his back. All the while avoiding his erogenous zones, making him all the more impatient.

Whether it was the drugs or his ruined heart’s muddling his mind, Izaya could not summon the will to push this violating stranger away as he pushed all the beautiful kimono from Izaya’s body, revealing his milky white skin.

“Ah, nu, nu (no, no),” the man above his frowned as his fingers traced the scars on Izaya’s thighs. “This is no good.” Lowering himself to Izaya’s thighs, the blonde man kissed the scars tenderly. “You shouldn’t do this to yourself.”

That snapped Izaya out of his trance.

His eyes widened, he tried to kick the stranger right in the face to no avail. The man’s expression didn’t even change and he simply held Izaya’s legs in place.

“Don’t touch me!” Izaya finally screamed. The weight of the situation finally sinking in his intoxicated mind.

The man licked his thigh.

That’s when fear finally struck him. He’s tied up. Drugged.

At this man’s mercy.

Izaya whimpered.

‘Shizuo… Shizuo…,’

He kept chanting the name. Hating that he’s beginning to feel aroused by the man’s ministrations. 

‘Shizu… chan.’

Again.

‘Shizuo..’ a sob ripped from his throat.

Again.

‘Shizuo…’ the stranger reached out and dipped his finger into a bowl on the nightstand. His eyes still locked to Izaya’s which had been shut tight as he tried to turn his head away.

Again.

‘Shizuo…’

“Hey,” the man held the informant's jaw. “Look at me.” Izaya’s eyelids finally cracked open when the pain on his jaw had been too much. The stranger pressed his forehead to his.

“Look at me.”

And again.

‘Shizuo…!’

A finger pressed to his entranced and Izaya had to take a sharp intake of breath when he felt the stranger’s mouth on his nipples which managed to perk up despite his fear.

“Relax…”

The finger did not insist when Izaya’s entrance wouldn’t ease. Instead, he took his time. Circling the tight ring of muscle.

“Relax…”

Oddly, Izaya’s eyelids started to hood his eyes as his already weak body began to relax. Resigned from fighting this stranger anymore.

“It’ll all feel better.”

Izaya finally closed his eyes. What would feel better? His body? Or his heart? Izaya didn’t know what this stranger was offering, but whatever it was ‘feel better’ definitely did the trick as Izaya fell into the drowning darkness once more.

His common sense muted as he began leaning into the touch.

The finger finally pressed inside. The oil being used as lube had a sweet aroma. Warm and relaxing.

Instead of trying to figure out how to escape, Izaya’s mind began to soak in the pleasing scent of screwpine.

Before he knew it, a second finger had been added. Then a third.

The stretch felt pleasant. Beyond pleasant.

Izaya gasped when the man found his sweet spot.  
“Oh?” Izaya could hear the smirk playing on the man’s face as his eyes were screwed shut. “So that’s where it is.” was all the man said before abusing his prostate, making Izaya moan and moan and willingly spread his legs for the stranger to violate him more. His bound wrists began to hurt and his arms began to ache but the black haired man didn’t care as his body relished the warmth of another body he’s been craving since the last time the monster held him close which was… a month ago?

Thoughts of the beast were erased from his mind when the man began sucking on his nipple… hard!

“Ha-a.. ah… ahhh… hnn… ah,” Izaya moaned and moaned like a pathetic whore who’s been deprived of attention for much too long.

It’s not wrong. Shizuo and himself hardly had time for each other these past few months anyway. Work and his lovely humans and that pesky kouhai of the Monster’s being in the way most of the time. Even before their break up, Shizuo had always looked more pleased spending time with his little brother than his now ex-boyfriend. The first time in months that Shizuo actually came to him for more than a few rounds of sex was when… they broke up.

“Ah!” His train of thoughts was abruptly cut off again when the man began biting and tugging on the perky nub.

“Ahhhnn… ah..!” the fingers messing around inside him made his eyes grow wide and his body squirming for more.

“Aw, what a cute kitty.” the man chuckled at the display as he kept playing with the other’s abused hole. “If you want it…”

He pulled all his fingers out. Izaya gasped before whimpering at the loss. His asshole felt empty and the pain began creeping back in his heart.

“You’re going to have to beg for it.” the man looked down at him with a superior smile as he leisurely lathered up his cock leisurely.

Izaya’s eyes bugged out at the size of the dick he hadn’t noticed until now.

That thing is huge! If this man’s not the same size as Shizuo, then he's at least the same size to make a bulge in his stomach and rearrange his organs should that thing ever enter him.

Like a monster.

Izaya’s hole twitched at the sight despite himself. His own dick already drooling precum.

“P-please…”

“Hm?” The man raised an amused eyebrow.

Izaya blushed. Unable to look at the man in the eyes. “Please... “ the man cupped his chin roughly, forcing Izaya to look at him in the eyes. Izaya looked at him with glassy eyes. Lips swollen red and cheeks tear-stained. Eyes brimming with need, pain and lust.

“Please who?” the man leant in closer to his face as he pressed the tip of his cock to the needy informant’s entrance teasingly.

Izaya made a choked noise as his asshole twitched again. “Please.. Master.”

The man looked pleased.

Izaya spread his legs wider and lifted his ass.

“Please.. fuck this needy whore.”

Just like that, the man finally pressed into him. Izaya screamed. The man was barely halfway in and it already hurts like hells. Izaya shivered imagining how it would feel like to have the man thrusting in and out of him. The man was merciful. Letting Izaya’s body adjust before pressing in again.

By the time the huge dick had been fully seated in his body, Izaya had finally -for the first time since that fateful night of the breakup- forgotten the ache in his chest and instead enjoyed the relieve by another form of pain.

It’s not rape.

Or at least… what Izaya had been convincing himself it wasn’t.

“Well?” the man prompted. He pressed as if it could go any deeper.

Izaya shifted from under him. His body jolting with pleasure as the massive cock managed to brush his prostate despite the man not even thrusting yet. “P… please Master…”

The man still stayed still with that smile on his face.

“Tell me what you want…” he leant in. Cupping the side of her face. His beautiful green eyes looking into Izaya’s own hooded blood red ones. “Slut.” he kissed the side of his face.

The husky voice made a shudder run down the informant’s spine. Despite his current state, Izaya knew exactly what the man wanted. “Please..” Izaya begged. “Please… fuck this filthy bitch.”

The man’s grin widened.

“AH!” Izaya screamed. The man thrust relentlessly. Uncaring that Izaya needed to adjust to the fast rhythm of their coupling.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! AH!” Izaya felt as if he was going to be ripped in two.

It hurts so bad but it felt so good. His body felt like it was burning as jolts of electricity spiked up his spine as the man speared his prostate again and again.

He felt so thoroughly violated and yet… so good!

Izaya let out a strangled cry cut by another moan when the man took a hold of the base of his cock effectively preventing him from cumming.

“Oh no,” the man whispered breathlessly in an extraordinary show of self-control as he leant in closer to Izaya’s ear before nibbling on the soft lobes. “You’re not cumming until I let you.”

If Izaya had any semblance self-control before, the last of it just snapped. “P-please… ahhnnn.. PLEASE!” the man slammed into him harder and harder till Izaya felt as if his insides were being rearranged by the sheer force of those thrusts. “AH!”

“Please what?

“Please… let… aaahh… this- AH!” The man yanked a fistful of his hair and bit into the exposed neck. “W-whore- AH! CUM, MASTER!”

Izaya’s eyes rolled back when he felt the man’s lips on his nipple and sucking… hard! Mercifully, the man lets go and with a few rolls of his hips, Izaya was gone.

“HYAAAAAAAH...!” His body spasmed as his already tight walls clenched down on the rod as he came hard all over his stomach and chest. His dominator gave groaned out his name as Izaya the thick rod buried in him to the hilt and warm cum shooting in and filling him up to the brim.

Izaya could feel his own body go limp when the other man still moved inside him to prolong their connection. His wrists burned and he couldn’t feel his arms but Izaya could not care less. The young informant vaguely felt the brush of a pair of lips on his temple before he finally passed out from exhaustion.

\-----

Shizuo sometimes wondered if he was probably swapped at birth. He and Kasuka barely resembled one another. Their tempers differ by a mile and whatever it is in his blood that had triggered his less-than-welcomed superhuman strength early on in his childhood never seemed to course through his little brother’s veins (not that Shizuo’s ungrateful - he is, he couldn’t imagine how he would feel if his precious little brother had to endure what Shizuo had to go through to his nothing short of a fucked up parody of A Series of Unfortunate Events called life).

That’s why Shizuo hadn’t been surprised that he and Kasuka ended up leading completely opposite lives and neither had he been surprised when he finally stopped in front of the great white building with a sign saying:

Tokyo Medical University Hospital

The ex-bartender couldn’t help but scowl as he entered the building. He could reaaally use a cigarette right now but he had to put that out hours before he even got into the copper blue shirt and black jeans he had worn from home in case his date later that day and in hopes that none of the cancer stick’s ashes would be stuck to his clothing and miles before stepping into the hospital’s premises.

Of course one of the best hospitals in all of Tokyo had to be in Shinjuku of all wards. Normally he would grumble in irritated fondness when the flea crosses his mind every now and then as he went on with his day but now he didn’t even grumble, smile, or even put on so much as a frown.

He didn’t want to admit it but… he missed the flea.

How could he not? They broke up so abruptly. Right when things are going so well.

But just before his thoughts could start sentencing him to an endless cycle of tears and chain smoking his body had to endure after the breakup weeks ago, the cold burn of anger settled in the pit of his stomach. A passerby (who couldn’t recognise him in the absence of his bartender get-up) squeaked and hurried along when he saw the faux blonde’s fury-filled expression.

Straightening himself up before he did anything he knew he would regret, the Fortissimo of Ikebukuro hurried through the door and made his way up, not bothering with the elevator, and till he finally stood in front of a sickeningly sterile smelling door.

Shizuo took a deep breath. He’s must have done this several hundred times already (literally) within the past weeks but for some reason, he had never felt ready to open that door to meet the person on the other side. He clenched the poor flowers stems one last time before entering the room.

There he is.

Heiwajima Kasuka.

Shizuo’s expression immediately softened at the sight of his brother lying limp on the hospital bed. Calmly, he walked over to him, not bothering to put the flower in the vase -instead, opting to dump them on the bedside- as he pulled a chair and sat beside the bed.

“Hey Kasuka…” he greeted with a listless smile. “You know… I thought of the flea again today.”

A long pause.

Shizuo sighed. “Pathetic, huh?” He laughed. “Tom-san insisted I go out with Vorona, you know, to try and forget about Izaya.” The name left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“Vorona… she’s cool. I love her, but not like I…” Shizuo’s voice finally cracked. “...loved Izaya.” His fists trembled.

Tears started falling on the clenched fists which began to bleed just like his lips he bit down on as the nails dug into his own skin.

“I know… I shouldn’t be thinking of him.” He sobbed.

“I’m sorry.” Shizuo lifted his head to face the actor’s figure lying limp on the bed with an oxygen mask over his handsome face. “I’m sorry…”

“I know I should forget him. I know I should just hate him. Heck,” he chuckled. “I should hate him more than I did before! Now he’s done it! Now he really ruined my life. Now he-”

Shizuo couldn’t stop the sobs coming out of him if he tried.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“I tried. I really tried to hate him, Kasuka.”

Shizuo let out a strangled cry.

“But I don’t!” he almost screamed.

“I don’t know why! I just don’t!”

Shizuo took a deep breath as he practised at least several hundred times in these past weeks alone.

“I love him… I still do… so much that it hurts.” his own sincerity made his stomach churn with disgust.

“I love Izaya, Kasuka. I can’t forget him. I can’t even hate him.”

 

“Even after what he’s done to you.”

 

After a long pause, Shizuo finally managed to get himself together enough for his voice to steady when he said:

“But don’t worry. I’m not so stupid that I’d believe any more of his lies.” He stroke his brother’s soft locks tenderly with steeled eyes and a tender smile.

“I will never forgive him. Ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahahh.. pretty vanilla huh? Sorry. This is my first attempt at this kind of lemon. I’m not good at this kinda thing, sorry. ^-^’
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed that!
> 
> I’m still taking votes! So far, more people are voting for the good ending.
> 
> Oh, and please vote for either the good ending or bad ending at the comment section!
> 
> Thank you for reading! (♡°▽°♡)


	4. Volya and Vorona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya wasn't sure how much more he can take and neither was Shizuo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this is gonna be a preeetty long story so yea I’m still taking votes 7 chapters from now or so. But, be warned, whichever ending this story is going to have, good or bad, this is still gonna be a angsty fic HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA... forgive me ._.
> 
> WARNING: ...We’re all going to hell together if you keep reading this. 
> 
> Hiks.. Ao3 keeps messing up my format. Whyyy... TTATT
> 
> Credits to Nares for beta-ing me prev chapters. This chapter has no beta though so... yeah. Sorry if there are any errors.

The cozy setting of the rich black and red themed room did not fit the cold air surrounding them but neither cared. Well, the other wasn’t quite conscious enough to anyway. White and red rose petals littered on the bed and floor, filling the air with their sweet aroma which mixed in with the expensive massage oil in the bowl.

 

Volya Averin chuckled, admiring the sight. “My, oh my, so much blood.” He was almost regretful.

 

Almost.

 

The Russian man was sure that his beloved information broker had not felt the pain when he took him. He was, after all, the one who made sure the drug worked. However such a shame it was still.

 

“Such a lovely body… what a cruel, cruel man your beloved is, my love. Casting you away as if you’re anything...” he caressed the informant’s cheek tenderly. “... less than perfect.” his eyes darkened with his own last few words.

 

Izaya’s body far from healed. The wound he sustained from the day before the green eyed blonde man took him had made some ugly scars that barely healed. Volya had made sure that the maids tended to the wounds while Izaya was still unconscious but the black haired man’s negligence towards his own injuries had not made it ease for his own body to even properly scar.

 

‘Maybe I was too rough…?’ Volya mused, tilting his head a bit. But he smiled as he regretted nothing. Izaya should not have been fine tonight. Their mildly rough love making had caused some of the wounds to reopen and stain the lovely fabric of the cultured feminine attire the even more lovely black haired man laid, long fallen into a deep slumber out of exhaustion, albeit it was nothing like what Volya had initially planned.

 

He had planned to show the little raven just who was in charge but up close with the young informant’s eyes so beautifully swirling with pain, the Russian just had to change his mind.

 

Volvya stroked his beautiful black locks lovingly for a moment before reaching for the nightstand drawer and drawing out a first aid kit after he briefly pulled the red bell pull.

 

His meticulous fingers had merely grazed the gauze when he heard a knock.

 

“Come in.” he said without so much as taking his eyes off the man he was gently bandaging with a thin smile.

 

“ _You called, My Lord?_ ” his butler asked in Russian.

 

“ _Kindly call Doctor Lettiere for me, Sergei._ ”

 

Sergei bowed deeply to his master. “ _As you wish, Sire.”_

 

“It truly is a shame I have to bandage you up.” Volya sighed once Sergei left the door closed before pressing a chaste kiss on the chapped lips. “You really do look beautiful in red.”

 

The door burst unannounced and in came a man whom Izaya would note looked much like Kishitani Shingen sans the stupid mask.

 

Volya’s thin, charming smile never wavered. “It’s good to see you, Doctor.” absentmindedly noting that the doctor must have went here before Sergei found him.

 

Doctor Letteire clicked his tongue before smirking at the sight of the naked man covered waist down by the red-stained golden blanket. “My, Master Averin. Found yourself a new toy yet again? How did it go? Did he enjoy my new recipe?”

 

Volya chuckled at the amount of sheer enthusiasm the man let show. “She,” he corrected. He may have said it evenly but Letteire knew better than to argue as the man with green eyes locked his gaze on him. “And, no, Doctor. Sakuraya here is not merely a toy. She will be my wife.”

 

The Doctor nodded. “Of course, My Lord.” He bowed his head a bit. “Do forgive my crudeness. I was merely excited.”

 

“Hm..” the young Lord hummed thoughtfully before fastening the gauze and afterwards slowly reaching to gently cup the smaller man’s pale face. “As always. Your drugs work wonders, however…”

 

A frown decorated the blonde man’s face. “Doctor, did you not say this drug would make him forget his problems? Here namely this Heiwajima Shizuo.” his thumb traced the informant’s dainty lips. “But it seems to me he has not forgotten him at all.”

 

The old brown haired, blue eyed doctor frowned but his lips curved in amusement. “It seems to me his body is more resilient than we had initially thought, Lord. If you will allow me to take a blood sample, I will be able to fix the problem.”

 

Liking the prospect, Volya’s polite smile widened just slightly. “By all means.”

 

With no further ado, Letteire made his way to the slumbering informant and quickly took the much needed sample after somehow producing a syringe from his inner coat pocket.

 

Without overstaying his welcome, Letteire bid the man goodnight and left the room where the young Lord looked at his beloved with loving eyes that would have made the Great Orihara Izaya shiver if he had been conscious.

 

Instead of being annoyed that things had not entirely went his way, Volya Averin pressed yet another kiss on Izaya’s forehead. Loving the softness of her skin against himself. Really, the man looked more delighted than annoyed or angry if anything.

 

“You really are special indeed, my Love. Very special indeed...”

 

____

 

There are instances when Shizuo would have to sit awhile and ponder how the hell did he get himself into predicaments in which he would rather go days cooped up in his room than go.

 

This was one of those times.

 

Shizuo did not know how Tom managed to convince him into following through with this.

 

There he was, awkwardly and uncomfortable sitting across from her in some cafe with outdoor tables, with Vorona sitting across from him as if they were a couple.

 

His inhuman strength threatened to destroy the wood under his feet as Vorona rambled on about things Shizuo didn’t particularly care about or feel emotionally inclined to give a piece of his mind or two. Her commentaries were detached and devoid of any sort of passion of anything she had been going on about.

 

Unlike Izaya’s.

 

…

 

_*CRACK!*_

 

Shit.

 

“-npai.”

 

The wooden armrest now sported a nasty crack.

 

Shizuo groaned in frustration.

 

“-sen-”

 

Shizuo could remember it all as if it all just happened yesterday. The flea loved rambling on about random shit which would usually piss him off. So sick and morally warped-

 

“Shiz-”

 

-which always forced Shizuo to yell out, ‘Shit, flea. That’s not right.’

 

“Shizu-”

 

Every.

 

“Shi-”

 

Single.

 

Damn.

 

Time.

 

“Shizuo-senpai…!”

 

“What..?!” Shizuo snapped with a frown right before his eyes met Vorona’s and melted to something akin of guilty. “...erm.. sorry Vorona.” he said, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

 

Vorona looked at him evenly and blinked. “Shizuo-senpai not feeling well today?”

 

Shizuo ceased all his nervous act as his face turned blank at that.

 

Ah…

 

… he’s not now… was he?

 

The faux blonde snorted a bitter chuckle. This is just pathetic.

 

Well, whaddya know. Getting over the bastard louse you thought of once as the love of your life at some point never been warranted to be easy, huh?

 

Vorona’s look did not change much. All as if she had not been fazed by the little odd display of her date laughing at nothing in particular.

 

“I guess now I am,” Shizuo answered, finally nodding solemnly. Never sparing her a glance. He must really be out of it because the next thing he knew, a delicate hand was utop his. When his eyes met the Russian’s, he knew the action was just as pragmatic as what she did on their last, equally pragmatic, date.

 

Well, if you could call it that.

 

_“Does Shizuo-senpai not like ootoro?”_

_“Nah, that’s more of Iza-,” Shizuo managed to stop himself. “Ah.. sorry, Vorona.”_

 

Shizuo mentally cringed at the memory. The last date mostly consisted of awkward silences at best and unpleasant awkward conversing at worst. They’ve, well at least he had, been walking on eggshells constantly and that was not at all that enjoyable. Actually, it had been more painstaking than he had initially thought it would be.

 

But, not wanting to disappoint his boss, Shizuo still gave Vorona the chance she deserved and simply waited till she probably does something unthinkably awful.

 

… Which was quite unlikely considering how utterly careful this girl was. Especially when there’s something she wants. And by that in this context that meant him, unfortunately.

 

Plus, after having a boyfriend like Izaya once, screwing up that badly ain’t easy and Vorona being so much more outwardly considerate did not help with the case.

 

Shizuo bit his lips. A mere thought away from pulling his hand from under her’s.

 

He decided that even if he’s going to give Vorona a chance, it would be fair to at least explain the unlikelihood of him changing his mind about her for a long, long while.

 

“Ah, Vorona I…”

 

She cut him off with a finger to his lips.

 

Shizuo blinked.

 

His mind too slow to register Vorona had already been leaning far too close and he only managed to widen his eyes in shock without pulling away when her lips were connected to his.

 

\----

 

Izaya woke up to a massive headache.

 

“Owh… W- Shit!” a sharp pain shot up his spine and he was forced to dig his head into the soft black pillow.

 

Before his mind could register that he was in the same master bedroom he was in before he fainted, a figure stepped through the doors before closing them behind him with unfaltering composure despite seeing the writhing figure in his bed desperate for some relief from the pain assaulting his whole body. The man calmly walked towards the bed and took the informant’s bone thin lithe form in his arms.

 

“Shh… It’s alright, it’s alright,” Volya whispered soothingly, “You’re going to be alright, Love.”

 

His breathing gradually calmed as his restless form finally relaxed. Izaya leaned into the warmth. Uncaring who was giving it as the pain had been swept away like magic.

 

It would normally frustrate him how utterly weak he felt but right now he was just too tired to care.

 

The man stroked comforting circles behind his neck and Izaya finally managed to gather his brains enough to open his mouth.

 

“Who…?”

 

The man chuckled. “Who am I?” he finished for him. “Darling you shouldn't worry yourself too much when you’re so weak.”

 

He caressed the tear off Izaya’s cheek. The black haired man had cried from the excessive pain his body had been subjected to.

 

Suddenly Izaya’s felt cold.

 

Chilled to the bones at the thought of not knowing what exactly had been injected into him before he woke up to the waves of pain.

 

As if reading his mind, the unknown man leaned down to give him a kiss on his temple and told him, “You were injected with a drug my people have been working on. What it is is a secret but don’t worry. It won’t kill you. Not in that dose at least.”

 

Izaya did not feel better.

 

“The drug ran out from your system faster than I had predicted. That’s why you’re in pain,” the man explained generously.

 

Then there was a knock on the door.

 

“Come in.”

 

Izaya’s tired eyes focused on the new person in the room. The maid said something before actually walking further in the room.

 

Feeling a headache coming, Izaya closed his eyes.

 

“Sweetheart…”

 

When Izaya cracked open his eyes, he was presented with what looked like a cup of what looked like… tea?

 

“Drink up,” the man said gently. “It will help with the pain.”

 

Izaya knew he shouldn’t even attempt to drink whatever the stranger gave him no matter how thirsty or in pain he was but…

 

What choice did he have, really?

 

Without protest, Izaya hesitantly parted his lips as the man tilt the expensive ceramic so he could drink.

 

‘Wha…’ within a few seconds Izaya felt as if all the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders as he could barely remember feeling any of the initial pain.

 

Actually.

 

He couldn’t really remember anything at all.

 

The man pressed a gentle, chaste kiss on his lips. “Finally…” he sighed contentedly. “It works.”

 

Izaya’s eyes started clouding with a strange mild  ecstasy.

 

“What’s your name, Love?” Volya asked despite knowing full well the answer.

 

“Ori...hara.. Izaya..”

 

Volya smiled fondly.

 

“Well, Sakuraya, my name is Volya Averin,” he kissed the smaller man on his lips which Izaya reciprocated sweetly.

 

Then he pulled away, making the smaller man whine in protest. Volya chuckled. “But you can call me ‘Master’”

 

Suddenly, Izaya gasped as he was knocked back to reality.

 

He panted hard. “What…” he gasped out. “THE HELL WAS THAT?!”

 

Izaya was near hysterics.

 

It was one thing to be injected with drugs he did not know.

 

It was something to completely lose control of himself and actually consciously enjoy it.

 

It was terrifying.

 

He needs to get away.

 

He needs to immediately.

 

The words spilt out of his mouth before he could even think them through.

 

“Let me go!”

 

Volya raised an eyebrow amusedly but didn’t look too surprised at the sudden struggle as the informant futilely tried to push him away.

 

He gave a thoughtful hum before saying, “Okay”

 

…

 

 _Okay_..?!

 

Izaya didn’t know what crazy drama he was in but now he’s not even sure if he’s completely awake.

 

Okay? Did he just say o- _fucking_ -kay?!

 

After all that?!

 

Okay now he’s completely lost it.

 

Izaya would have fainted again if his fight-or-flight response systems weren’t on so high alert.

 

Volya laughed. Actually laughed at him. “Aw why are you looking at me like that? Darling, I’m not so cruel that I’d keep you as my prisoner forever.” he kissed his nose and Izaya was too dumbfounded to give a proper response. “If you want to leave, you may,” he said with a gentle smile as he helped the informant on his feet.

 

Izaya yelped in shock but reflexively attempt to steady himself on his feet anyway.

 

“I’ve instructed the maids to clean you up earlier today already, but you can’t just go out naked like that, yes?” Volya said. “Let’s let you dressed.”

 

\----

 

Izaya couldn’t believe his eyes.

 

He was finally out!

 

A moment ago Volya had his men escort them to the car and they were chauffeured all the way to Sunshine 60.

 

Izaya had not attempted on the man’s life - he hasn’t quite recovered and the obviously stronger man had bodyguards in the car with them.

 

Taking a deep breath of Ikebukuro’s stale air, Izaya couldn’t help but smile.

 

Freedom is sweet.

 

He’d need to probably change everything. His contact number, his computers, his phones and even his address but at least he’s not in shackles.

 

Izaya wasn’t naive or dumb enough to not anticipate that the man may have people stalking him from the shadows or plain sight but there’s nothing he could do about that for now so he was better off fooling himself to period blissful obliviousness for a few hours. He needed the break.

 

Maybe he'll find this Volya Averin and destroy him somehow but not today. Not when the man was still so ahead of him in the game. Izaya knew better than to be hasty when threading with a dangerous enemy.

 

He looked around and felt his pockets. Izaya blinked when he felt his wallet through the brand new pants' pockets. 

 

Izaya’s eyes darkened.

 

He’d have to burn that.

 

Along with the clothes he currently has on him too.

 

Lifting his head up, Izaya took a deep breath before walking towards the direction of Russia Sushi.

 

No harm in throwing out some cash, ne?

 

On his way he looked left and right with a tiny bounce in his steps as he could not skip just yet with his body very sore.

 

Walking by people walking with cellphones in hand minding their own business, girls chattering within their own little groups, and businessmen making equally important phone calls to their clients and wives, that’s when Izaya realized just how much he missed the place.

 

His slow mind backtracking as he wondered why he hadn’t visited the lovely ward of Ikebukuro for so… long..

 

Ah, yes…

 

Izaya slowed to a paused as the name left his lips. “Shizu… chan.”

 

“Aw, look at them. What a cute couple!”

 

“I know right! And they're both blonde too, so cool!”

 

The noise had somehow forced Izaya to look up.

 

Which he sorely regretted.

 

 

"KYAAHH~ Look! They're kissing!"

 

 

 

There, the love of his life locked lips with the one woman who almost murdered him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. I know, I know. I’m going straight to hell for this. 
> 
> So... good ending or bad ending? 
> 
> Thank you for reading! ^^


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